I’m sitting in a little bubblegum pink room in Saigon feeling exhausted- emotionally and physically. Even though I’ve had banh mi and pho on the mind all day as one should when visiting Vietnam, I decided to pop in for a bite at a Japanese restaurant around the corner in honor of my good friend Duncan. He hops on a plane to Japan from Phnom Penh tonight looking forward to new adventures drinking sake under cherry blossom trees. When walking into the little place, “Irasshaimase irasshaimase!” rang out several times as it always does from the staff when entering a Japanese establishment (or at least plenty at The Sushi Bar– one of his favorite haunts)- and it took me back to plenty of meals shared. Maybe all that teppan yaki toro maki helped push his decision…

From the beginning of last Monday, September 30th, until today- it has felt like a constant and unending celebration, understated- yet remarkable, extravagant. From the moment I fell asleep on the eve of my birthday, New Order’s “Ceremony” kept ringing through my head- faintly, softly- but a gentle reminder of the dazzling commemoration of life that comes yearly, if you’re so blessed. The words softly padding through my consciousness every so often:

“This is why events unnerve me, They find it all, a different story, Notice whom for wheels are turning, Turn again and turn towards this time, All she ask’s the strength to hold me, Then again the same old story, World will travel, oh so quickly; travel first and lean towards this time.”

Rather, the onset of the birthday jitters that I so eagerly try to offset, began slightly earlier that night on the 29th when I watched “The Kings of Summer“, a film which onset such nostalgia that I felt like I had drunk a bottle of Sauvignon Blanc (I hadn’t, for the record) to bring the onset of emotions I felt as I watched the lead character and his best friend encounter the anxieties, excitements, and downfalls of adolescence in all it’s meticulously planned chaos. It reminded me much of that exact time of me life- the pulling , itching, primal desire to be free, to be a woman of my own, to push forth into territory unknown and make it mine- even if I wasn’t truly ready to in any way. I think back to lounging about with Brooke Miller in her second to oldest brother’s room, sneakily listening to his music and talking about our futures. The men who would eventually sweep up off our feet and take us to Paris and Rome, the dark hair they would brush from their eyes, and the songs we would marry to. She, to Sigur Ros’ “Staralfur” and I, Explosions in the Sky “First Breath After a Coma”.

It’s the 6th of September, and I arrived in Phnom Penh on the 5th last year.

I had meant to, on the one year mark of my arrival, write a blog post reviewing the past twelve months putting together a meaningful, intricate, and interesting entry to post- but over a feast of bangers and mash and rosé last night at Public House I realized I had missed the mark.

It can be difficult to describe a typical day in Cambodia to a friend back home. Maybe that’s because in my opinion, there is no such thing as a “typical day”. Waking up to get to work around 8 and getting my tasks done until about 5 and then going work out; it sounds pretty ordinary. And for the most part, it feels that way.

What I do forget throughout the weeks that fly by is that I’m simply just used to a lot of the weird stuff. The cock fights on the side of the road. The vendors trucking around hundreds of small, seasoned clams in the baking sun, “street clams” as we call them. The fear of getting Dengue Fever rather than a common cold.

I had the enjoyment of spending a few days this past week with friends (Jesse, Ritchie, Duncan, Steve, newly friended Eric and a few Scottish gals whose names I unfortunately don’t remember) and family (mom and Rachel) in Siem Reap. Full of relaxation, naps, entertainment, loads of good food, and several Indiana Jones-like tuk tuk rides: it was a weekend away to be remembered.

From sending my mom off for a visit to the States, celebrating not one but two birthdays (HAPPY BIRTHDAY SHAKES AND NATALIE!), a trip to Bangkok for work (and some play), and moving house- all while battling a flu-its been pretty hectic.

I want to give warm congratulations to Dan and Oun Beck for the addition of baby Rosie to their family unit. We visited the maternity care ward this past weekend and it was simply touching. She’s one of the most beautiful babies I’ve ever seen, she managed to avoid the…how do I say this…squished alien look that we all know babies sometimes have when they’re first born but we love them anyway.